


Only Family May Enter

by Cybra



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Family, Family Feels, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 13:24:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12343545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cybra/pseuds/Cybra
Summary: Ever since she first saw the double doors leading to the Archives, Webby has wanted to enter.  However, she isn't family, and Quackfaster won't let her in unaccompanied.





	Only Family May Enter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sinclaironfire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinclaironfire/gifts).



> Because Evil Club needs some fluff sometimes.
> 
> **Disclaimer:** _Ducktales_ belongs to the Walt Disney Company.

It had taken so much begging and pleading to be allowed to come to the Bin with the old duck Webby shared a home with.  Seeing Duckburg from the windows of the speeding limo had been a thrill since it was her first trip outside of the manor that she was old enough to clearly remember.  The Money Bin itself was a behemoth that dwarfed even Mr. McDuck’s home on Killmotor Hill, a monolith to the success of the old duck who’d gazed listlessly out the window as her granny laid out the ground rules of what she was and wasn’t allowed to do at the Bin.

When they climbed out of the limousine, Webby trying to adjust to walking on steady ground again, the old man said, “I need to be headin’ to the Archives.  Beakley, you can show her around the rest of the—”

“Archives?” Webby’s eyes glittered with ravenous greed for the forbidden knowledge likely contained within. “Can I see?”

Mr. McDuck gave a long-suffering sigh, glancing back at her bemused grandmother with weary resignation before refocusing his gaze on her.  “Lassie, the Archives are off-limits.  Only me and…”  He looked away.  “…Only _I_ can go there outside of the archivist.  That’s the rules, ye ken?”

“Pleeeeeease?” she begged, hands clasped tightly together. “I promise I won’t take anything out of it!  And I’ll wear gloves so I don’t get fingerprints on anything!  I’ll even wear a hazmat suit so I won’t even _breathe_ on anything!”

The old drake gave a sigh.  “I’ll show you where the Archives are, but _that’s it._   Me Archives aren’t part of the tour.”

She opened her mouth to protest when her granny cut her off.

“That’s more than generous enough, Webby,” the old woman told her sternly. “What Mr. McDuck keeps in the Archives is a private matter.  Do you understand?”

The little girl slumped, crestfallen.  “Yes, Granny.  Thank you, Mr. McDuck.”

The old man simply nodded and led the way down into the depths of the island the Money Bin was built on.  The double doors of the Archives stood out easily: polished brown wood with golden doorknobs in a featureless white hallway.  It looked like an entrance to where dreams were made.

Mr. McDuck knocked twice, and the woman who opened the doors stood straight and tall before stepping to one side, granting him entrance.

“Quackfaster,” the old man mumbled as a means of greeting.

“Good morning, Mr. McDuck,” she returned.

As what seemed like an old ritual between the pair was concluded, Webby’s focus was locked on the space visible beyond Mrs. Quackfaster.  Suddenly the library back at McDuck Manor seemed so small for it held only a fraction of the volumes Webby could see which was, in turn, only a sliver of the overall collection.

Without thought, she took a step closer to the doorway, entranced.

Mrs. Quackfaster moved to block her way, frowning down at her.  “Mr. McDuck’s Archives are strictly off-limits except to his family.”

Webby’s eyes darted towards the old man who’d frozen for half a second at that last word before he’d continued on to disappear amongst the stacks.  “But…”

“Webigail,” her grandmother chided, a hand landing on the girl’s shoulder, “let’s be off.  We’ll meet up with Mr. McDuck later.”

“…Yes, Granny.”

She gave a longing look towards the double doors as they closed.

One day.  _One day…_

* * *

“She’s very persistent.”

“Uh huh.”  Scrooge nervelessly picked up one out-of-order book and placed it on its appropriate shelf.

“Every time you bring her to the Bin, she always heads here as soon as possible.  I’m pretty sure she has a list of the fastest routes to get here.”

“I see.”  Another book re-shelved.

“I’m fairly sure the only reason she hasn’t attempted breaking and entering is because the Archives has its own ventilation system.”

The last book moved into its correct position.  “I’ll have a word with her grandmother then.”  Blue light traced the final book along with the shelf it rested on before following a path to the wall, the “painting” sliding up to reveal a hand scanner.  He looked back at the archivist.  “I can take things from here, Quackfaster.”

She didn’t look happy but she nodded as she walked away.  “I’ll be nearby if you need anything.”

He waited until she’d rounded the corner and then a full minute afterwards.  Then he placed his hand on the scanner, hissing as his pointer finger was pricked by the needle he knew was waiting there.  There were gentler ways to do this, but he didn’t want them.  He wanted it to hurt since the physical pain helped distract him from the emotional agony that always brought him back to this hidden place.

“McDuck family DNA recognized,” the computer announced as the wall slid open.

“I should change that message,” he mumbled as he trudged inside.  He made his way across the room, ignoring the artifacts around him, to gaze up at the massive painting. “Shouldn’t I, Della?”

The image of his niece continued smiling, frozen in time and unaware of his presence.

* * *

It took _years_ before Webby got inside the Archives.  Since that first successful trip, she and Dewey hadn’t made much progress in finding out what had happened to the triplets’ mother.

Not that they were going to make any headway today.  With Dewey sick in bed with the flu and the pair having agreed not to pull Huey and Louie in until they had some real answers, there was no way to get access to the hidden collection.  She wasn’t a member of Scrooge McDuck’s family, so Quackfaster would never allow her in unaccompanied.

Today was shaping up to be a pretty miserable day.

“Oi, lass.  What’s got you lookin’ like someone kicked your dog?” the familiar Scottish accent asked from behind her, its owner walking up to stand beside her and look out the window. “Bright sunny day, so it can’t be the weather.”

She probably should’ve been upset that the old drake had only started adventuring again after the nephews had come into his life.  However, she couldn’t be angry with him.  He’d always been kind to her even if there had been some distance between them as if he were holding himself back.  She’d seen what a sad man he’d been and still was in those moments he thought nobody was around to observe him.  She might not have been family to him, but she considered him to be at least distantly part of hers.  Not that she could ever admit that out loud, and she’d never dared put the connection on her board.

“I…um…well, Dewey and I were going to ask to go to the Bin with you again, but Dewey’s…y’know.”

Both grimaced at the distant sound of someone coughing hard enough to start retching.

“Well, that’s not a problem.  You can still go to the Bin.”  He then gave her a bemused look.  “Or were you hoping to go into the Archives again?”

She froze, feeling her heart stop.  She turned her head to lock eyes with him.

His expression grew sadly resigned.  “Quackfaster’s been tellin’ me about your visits.  It’s part of her job to let me know who goes in and out of the Archives.”

He knew.  More importantly, he _knew._   She swallowed, wondering if she’d meet the same fate as the mailman.

Silence reigned for a few minutes before his face brightened again and he told her jovially, “I have business in the Archives today.  Need to check the naval logs for information on the _Soles Dorados_.  Might be worth an expedition, and I could use an extra set of hands.”

She nodded numbly, feeling faint.

He knew, but he wasn’t going to make her disappear.

“Come along then.”  He turned and started to walk briskly away.  “You and I have work to do!”

* * *

As Webby poured over one of the naval logs he’d pulled from the shelves for her, Scrooge watched her.  He’d always known she’d had potential as an adventurer.  How she buried herself in the logs and took careful notes only further confirmed it.

“Quackfaster,” he said softly, knowing the archivist was lurking nearby.

She came to his side almost immediately as if she’d materialized out of thin air.

“Webby is allowed to enter the Archives unaccompanied,” he said, not taking his eyes off of the girl.

“I’ll make a note of her as an exception.”

“No, the rule still stands.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the old woman stare at him in surprise before she gave a knowing smile and nodded her head.

“Understood.”

* * *

The next time Webby went to the Archives with Dewey, Quackfaster’s greeting had changed:

“Welcome back, heirs to Clan McDuck!”

Heirs.  _Plural._   As in Dewey _and_ her.

At least Mr. McDuck…no, _Uncle Scrooge_ …didn’t seem too upset when she barged into his meeting to hug him tightly and cry grateful tears into his jacket.


End file.
